Page 22 of Secret (Chicago Underground 6)
“I don’t mean orgasms. I mean pretending to be high and stupid,” I said. “All the freaking time.”
“We all have our masks to bear.”
“You could have been straight with me. What did you think, I would go tell Henri?”
Her look was assessing. “You might have. I couldn’t trust you. I still don’t, but you’re the one with the ticket out of here.”
I touched the gash on my leg, then winced. “They really did a number on you, didn’t they?”
She laughed softly. “You’re one to talk.”
I felt Jenny tense beside me. I looked back to see a man walking out of the building. Major.
“He’s with us,” I said.
Major walked across the street, focused but unhurried. When he reached the car, I climbed between the seats into the back while he got in and drove.
“You got blood on the seats,” he said.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern,” I said sarcastically, collapsing against the back. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Let’s just say I have friends in low places.”
“Well, you do know Shelly,” Jenny said.
“That’s it,” I said. “I was going to actually help you, but since you’re being rude, I’m going to sic Marguerite on you.”
She scoffed. “Another pimp? Please.”
“Much worse. She runs a shelter.”
“A shelter?” Jenny cut in. “I don’t want to go to a shelter. Hell, no. Do I look like a poor battered woman to you?”
Major looked over at her, from her dirty, tangled hair down to her bruised arms. “This is a trick question, right?”
She crossed her arms. “I’m not going.”
He looked back at me. She’s your friend. You talk to her.
“Well, that’s where we’re going, so unless you’re planning on doing the tuck-and-roll out of a moving vehicle, so are you. Besides, you haven’t lived among regular people in years. No way are you surviving on your own.”
“That’s your motivational speech?” he asked me, incredulous.
I waved my hand. “I don’t do positive thinking. That’s what my shelter is for.”
In the rearview mirror, I saw Major raise his eyebrow. “Your shelter?”
I felt heat creep up my neck. “No, not mine. I mean, I just—”
“What, like, you volunteer there or something?” Jenny asked.
“No. Definitely not.”
“Spill,” Major said.
I sighed, resigned to explaining my random, very nonpossessive connection to this place. Really, what did I care about them? Nope, barely at all.
“I was at the clinic to get my birth control pills and monthly testing done. And this lady comes up to me in the waiting room, saying how I was such a beautiful soul and I didn’t have to do this and she could help me live a better life.”
